The rain had eased, but the city was still dripping, as if wringing out the last of its sins. Max Hastings stood on the rooftop of the safe house, the night air cool against his skin. Below, the streets were a tangle of lights and shadows, the lifeblood of a city that never truly slept.
Evelyn joined him, her footsteps soft on the gravel. "We stirred the pot, Max. But it's boiling over now."
He nodded, eyes fixed on the horizon. "We needed to shake things up. Kozlov and the mayor are rattled, and that's when they're most dangerous."
She glanced at him, concern etched in her features. "And us? Are we ready for what's coming?"
Max turned to her, the weight of their mission clear in his gaze. "We have to be."
Downstairs, the safe house buzzed with activity. Claire was at her laptop, fingers dancing over the keys as she monitored the fallout from their exposé. De Luca was on the phone, his voice a low rumble as he coordinated with their contacts.
